


Guilty Pleasures

by TheNightshadeDeluxe



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band), K-pop
Genre: Frottage, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 18:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightshadeDeluxe/pseuds/TheNightshadeDeluxe
Summary: Warning for underage (-18) situations. Back out while you still can.





	Guilty Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for underage (-18) situations. Back out while you still can.  

It’s Saturday afternoon and the curtains are drawn tight. It’s not dark but it offers them privacy from the outside world and the lock on the bedroom door keeps anyone from bursting in unannounced. 

They writhe on the bed and they’re thankful that it doesn’t have springs that squeak or unbalanced feet to give them away to anyone else in the house. They’re kissing (the way it always starts) and pulling each other closer with fingers diving under shirts and into bare skin. They’re grinding hard into each other riding the hardened seams of well-worn jeans until the friction brings them undone in sweaty, breathless rapture.

Neither is willing to let go until the increasing humidity becomes unbearable and breathing is laborious. Until then, no, they’re not ready to let go. Not prepared or able to relinquish the fearsome death grip on the one that has brought them the most exquisite and addictive of pleasures. They hold fast until the last vestiges of their ecstasy recedes and their lungs burn and their skin tingles and drips with the heat of them until it’s overwhelming.

They break apart slowly, steadily until they regain composure and their shaky limbs are able to bear their weight again. Eyes are drawn away as they physically withdraw unable to hold or maintain focus and contact. The cooling air between them becomes laden and heavy with guilt. Guilt that they’ve done this again even when they swore silently that they wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t.

And yet, they do and they do it in spite of their silent berating and pleading and guilt-tripping on all the reasons why it’s wrong and that it shouldn’t be done. But the dark flame of arousal set spiralling low in their bellies and the heaviness of it in their loins always worked its authority over them, masterfully overriding the hateful internal monologues when they’re alone. 

Intimate proximity always silences the voices relegating them to nothing more than an insipid background whine. Their adolescent bodies now dependent on this sweetest of poisons, reasoning cut down and cast aside in favour of succumbing to its delights. Their veins lit and sparking with need and want and an all-encompassing urge to be near, to have fingers tangled in hair, lean bodies pressing taut against each other, the soft and urgent press of lips and tongue against lips and slick skin and the dizzying crush of their evident arousal against each others. In this, they wholly understand why forbidden fruit is always considered the sweetest. Because it is. Well, if this is what addiction is, they know that they are full blown addicts and all hope is willingly lost. The white flag of surrender had been waved again, torn free from its moorings and set adrift in the raging storm of their unadulterated lust.

Neither can truly recall how it started or who made the first move but now they’re here again, swimming in the aftermath of awkwardness and icy regret in Jiyong’s bedroom. Jiyong’s starting to question it, why they should feel any kind of shame for engaging in something that makes them feel so fucking good.

Maybe it’s because Seunghyun is a year older than him, maybe he should know better and no doubt there would be hell to pay if anyone found them out. But, dammit, he was 15 and wasn’t a kid anymore. Seunghyun wasn’t either at 16 and maybe that was the point? He didn’t really know and he wasn’t going to broach the subject right now, not while they were unable to look at each other and Seunghyun makes his exit like he can’t leave his room quickly enough.

Jiyong curls up on his bed where Seunghyun was just moments ago and wonders if he feels the same stomach-churning anxiety as he does when he’s not there. Jiyong knows that he won’t ask him that either. He presses his face into his pillow and wants to scream but he doesn’t. He swallows it down, letting out a long sigh in its place and focuses on the cooling sticky mass in his pants and thinks about showering instead. Then maybe he’ll eat something and watch TV to take his mind off of whatever this weirdness was he was feeling. It would pass. Like it always does.

Jiyong also knows that it will seem a distant memory the next time they’re in front of each other with no one around and the dark craving for touch and heat and friction consumes them again.

He showers and washes away the evidence of today’s activities and reflects on how many times they’ve been here already (he counts 13 after today). Inside the receding maelstrom of regret, he knows that the opportunity will present itself again and soon.

Maybe then, he'll push his luck a little further and see how far Seunghyun is willing to test the boundaries of his guilt. 

 

~fin~


End file.
